The Chronicles of Draco Malfoy
by Hplover4ever3
Summary: We have all wondered, at one time or another, what life in the Malfoy residence was like... How did Draco handle growing up in this household? When did he become a bully and how did it all collide with the Dark Lord? It's all here, from the moment of Draco's birth to the end of the Battle of Hogwarts. -with parts from the books, the movies, and my own imagination.
1. Malfoy Manor

**CHAPTER 1: MALFOY MANOR**

Malfoy Manor was a large dwelling, situated in the middle of a wooded area in Great Britain. It stood tall and over a hundred years old. Surrounding it was a tall fence which had a protective enchantment around it so that the Malfoy kids would not wander off. There were plenty of large rooms inside, as well as an underground dungeon. The Malfoys were very proud of their wealth and did not spare any expenses.

In 1975, Narcissa Black married Lucius Malfoy-the last descendant of the Malfoys-and became Narcissa Malfoy. At age 20, the two were very happy. They were both of pureblood status and had more gold than they knew what to do with. Even more, Lord Voldemort, the most powerful wizard in the world, was on very good terms with the both of them.

Just one year into their marriage, they received the blessing of the dark mark and became Deatheaters. This was a most prestigious ritual and they couldn't be more pleased. It only took the murders of a few mudbloods to achieve, but once it was done, their societal status only improved. Lord Voldemort beamed whenever they arrived at his meetings. Among the Deatheaters, they were the golden couple and they knew it.

In 1980, their son Draco was born and he was a delight. Narcissa's entire family were very pleased with him and bought him loads of gifts. Her older sister, Bellatrix, showered him with kisses and promised to train him one day so he could become the Dark Lord's own personal assistant. Draco's future was ahead of him and it was very bright indeed.

Little did any of them know that in just one year, everything would change forever.

The Dark Lord had apparently overheard something about a blood traitor family-the Potters-and took it upon himself to kill them. He'd succeeded in destroying the parents but their son provided a challenge. The Dark Lord lost all of his powers that night shrunk into something that was barely alive. Frightened, he fled the scene and was not heard from again.

All of the Deatheaters fled with fear. Some went so far as Africa while others took the risk of remaining in Great Britain. Many were arrested-Bellatrix being among them-and sent to Azkaban, the most terrifying of prisons. The Ministry of Magic grew more powerful and its aurors were once again at large. Narcissa was devastated to hear about the deaths of her entire family-The Blacks-but Lucius found work at the Ministry, which secured their future.

"Mum," 5-year-old Draco addressed Narcissa one Sunday evening.

She looked up from The Daily Prophet in her hand and smiled at him.

"Yes, love?"

"Where are my aunts and uncles?"

"They went on vacation, dear," she replied simply. "Don't worry, we'll see them again one day."

Though, she did not know it herself.

"Son," said Lucius, now entering the room.

Draco ran to hug his dad, who lifted him into the air and spun him around before settling him into an armchair.

"How was your practice today?"

"Good!" exclaimed Draco. "I caught 4 out of 6 mudbloods."

"Well done!" cried Narcissa.

"That's my boy!" added Lucius.

The pair of them had given Draco a game set for his last birthday, wherein he had to catch mudblood figurines that popped in and out of a box. This was part of his training and he was already excelling at it. Draco was going to be a legacy. They knew that one day, he would make them very proud. They also knew that, were the Dark Lord around, he would adore this boy.


	2. Diagon Alley

**CHAPTER 2: DIAGON ALLEY**

"Sweetheart," Narcissa called after her son who was hopping along the alleyway. "Your father is going to get your books and I'll start with the wands. You go get your uniform and then we'll just make a stop at Borgin and Burke's. Meet us there, afterwards?"

"Yes, mum!" Draco called back, before turning round the corner into Diagon Alley.

It was 1991 and Draco and his family were shopping for his school supplies. He would soon start at Hogwarts and was beyond ecstatic.

He stopped at Madame Malkin's shop and waited until she finally noticed him.

"So, first year at Hogwarts?" She said brightly.

"It's about time you noticed me standing here!" he snapped at her, causing her smile to fade.

"What's your name?" she said grimly.

"Malfoy," he said proudly. "Draco Malfoy."

"Right, this way Mr. Malfoy," said Madame Malkin and she led him to a corner in the shop, where his clothes were already waiting for him. "Your parents sent an owl upon arriving here, requesting that I ready this for you."

"Good," said Draco, holding his head up.

"I'll just wait here, then," said Madame Malkin, bowing down to him.

He turned his back on her, entered the change room, and drew the curtain closed.

When he reappeared from behind it, Madame Malkin was helping another boy. She was tugging at his robes and talking endlessly about Hogwarts. The boy was of rough height, had dark messy hair, and round glasses.

"Hello," Draco said to him, casually, as he stepped up on the stool and let another witch start tugging at his robes and fixing them. "Hogwarts too?

"Yes," said the boy.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," Draco told him.

The boy nodded along.

"Then I'll go drag them off to see racing brooms," Draco continued. "I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll just bully my father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

The boy nodded again as Madame Malkin continued to tug at his robes.

"Have you got your own broom?" Draco asked him.

"No," said the boy.

Typical, thought Draco.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," said the boy again.

Whoever his parents were, they sounded very lame.

"I do," Draco said proudly. "Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say I agree."

The boy looked away. He was raging with jealousy, Draco was sure of it. This was very amusing to him.

"Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," muttered the boy.

Did he know _anything_ about anything?

"Well, no one really knows when they get there, do they?" Draco tried. "But I know I'll be in Slytherin. All our family have been. Imagine being in Hufflepuff! I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Hmm," said the boy.

Pathetic.

Suddenly, Draco spotted something very ugly standing outside the shop, holding two ice cream cones.

"Say, look at that man," he said to the boy.

The man was giant and had way too much hair.

"That's Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts," said the boy.

"Oh," Draco's face fell "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper," the boy said, as-a-matter-of-factly.

"Yes, exactly," Draco continued as the witch tugged some more on his robe. "I've heard he's a sort of savage..lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then, he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and sets fire to his bed."

"I think he's brilliant," said the boy.

"Do you?" sneered Draco. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

Whoever this boy was, he was getting lamer by the minute. So far, Draco was not impressed at all.

"They're dead," said the boy, seriously.

"Oh..sorry," mumbled Draco. "But they were..._our _kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean," said the boy.

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you?" said Draco. "They're just not the same. They've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts before they got their letters! IMAGINE! I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname by the way?"

But before the boy could answer, Madame Malkin rose to her feet and tapped him on the shoulder, motioning for him to go and pay for his purchase.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said Draco, tired of this conversation.

The boy nodded and walked away. If that were the sort of lot headed to Hogwarts this year, Draco was not impressed.

"OW," he cried as the pinched him on the leg.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"Watch it!" he spat at her.

Honestly!


	3. Journey From Platform 9 and 3 Quarters

**CHAPTER 3: JOURNEY FROM PLATFORM NINE AND THREE QUARTERS**

Draco boarded the Hogwarts Express on the first of September with his two new friends, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. As far as they were concerned, they were all going to be in Slytherin together as they had the same aspirations in the dark arts and the same attitudes about muggle-borns.

"Father always says that muggle-borns are just a pureblood's idea of a good joke," Draco boasted as the three searched the already-moving train for empty compartments. "But I think even they are too disgusting to joke about."

Crabbe and Goyle smirked and nodded vigorously. Finally, they found a compartment and the three boys sat down.

"I expect that Quidditch will start up very soon," Draco said, casually.

"Do you play?" Asked Crabbe.

"Well, I can't say I'm not interested," said Draco. "But I also can't say I'm not equipped to join the house team either."

"But first years never make the house teams," said Goyle, a worried look on his face.

Draco stared at him.

"I know that," he pointed out. "I'm going to make the team next year, I just think they're wasting their time making me wait. Father taught me a lot of neat tricks and says I'm very skilled on a broom."

The two boys listened as Draco rambled on about his family tree and how their pureblood status ran all the way down to their very earliest ancestors. Soon, a witch with a sweets trolley stopped by their compartment and they made their purchases.

"What about the teachers?" Goyle asked, his mouth full of Bertie Botts every flavor beans.

"At Hogwarts?" Mouthed Crabbe as he bit into a chocolate frog.

"They're all right," Draco told them. "Father said there's a mixture of good and bad. Isn't there always? He said that a certain Professor Snape would take a liking to us. Apparently he's the head of Slytherin house..already sounds like a good bloke. Oh look, it's Dumbledore," Draco eyed the card from Crabbe's chocolate frog. "He's a hero or whatever. Apparently he fought against you know who, back then, and he loves muggle-borns and Gryffindor. Pathetic."

The two boys nodded again, giving the card various looks of disgust as Draco tossed it out the window.

Suddenly, the compartment door slid open and a scrawny boy was standing in the doorway, looking very worried.

"S...sorry to b...b...bother you, but um have you... seen a toad?"

Draco eyed him up and down and then sneered.

"I'm looking right at it."

Crabbe and Goyle roared with laughter as the boy, who was now on the verge of tears-his hands shaking-slowly closed the door again and disappeared.

"That," Draco told his friends as he pointed at where the boy had been standing, "will probably end up in Hufflepuff. Ugh, it would be just devastating to be placed there."

"But what if we are?" Said Crabbe.

"Well I don't know about you," Draco said to him, "but my father will surely have a word with the headmaster if that's the case. They'll sort it out."

"Are you sure?" Asked Goyle.

"Of course I'm sure," said Draco. "Father has a lot of influence at the ministry of magic and the ministry is above the Hogwarts headmaster."

"Ohh," said Crabbe and Goyle together.

Draco rolled his eyes at them.

Later, another boy showed up in their compartment, though he looked rather normal.

"Is he there?" Someone called from the corridor.

The boy looked around at Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle, and then shook his head.

"Nope!"

"What is going on?" Crabbe asked.

The boy turned to look at him.

"We're looking for Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter?" Draco sat up, now listening intently. "Where?"

"On the train!" Said the boy. "You know he's in our year, right?"

"Yes," said Draco, defensively. "I just didn't know he chose to come to Hogwarts. Blimey, father told me so many stories..."

The boy closed the door and ran down the hall, still searching.

"You've heard of him, then?" Crabbe asked Draco.

"Of course," he said. "Anyone who's anyone has heard of him."

"Come on," he leapt to his feet. "Let's go explore the train."

They didn't have to go far before they found the right compartment because everyone who were standing in the corridor were pointing excitedly at it. The three boys pushed and shoved through until they reached the compartment door and slid it one. Inside were two other boys...one who looked worse than the toad boy, and another who looked rather normal...in fact, it was the same boy from Madame Malkin's shop. Draco took his pick, eyeing the both of them carefully.

"Is it true?" He asked the boy from the shop. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter is in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," the boy replied, now eyeing Draco's friends who stood on either side of him, their arms crossed importantly.

"Oh, this is uh Crabbe and this is Goyle," Draco told him, rather carelessly. "And my name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

The other boy sitting in the compartment gave a sort of cough which brought Draco's attention to him.

"Think my name's funny, do you?" He snapped. "No need to ask yours..My father's told me that all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." He turned to Potter. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong kind. I can help you there."

He held out a hand for him to shake, but Potter merely looked at it before replying,

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."

This caused Draco's smile to fade as he lowered his hand. The nerve of this boy!

"I'd be careful, if I were you, Potter," he told him, using the tactic his father had taught him, regarding setting the basis for power. "Unless you're a bit politer, you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

The Weasley boy jumped to his feet, looking redder than his hair.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Draco laughed. Crabbe and Goyle joined him.

"Unless you get out now," Potter warned.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we boys?" Draco surveyed his friends who nodded along. "We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."

Goyle reached for a chocolate frog but before he could grab a hold of it, some sort of a disgusting rat bit into his hand and he shrieked with pain. Draco quickly turned round and ran from the compartment, with Crabbe and Goyle following him closely behind.

They found their compartment and remained there for the rest of the journey, which hadn't been that long.

Hogwarts was every bit as grand and supreme as his father had described it, and Draco could not wait to start. The first years made their way up to the castle by boats and then joined the rest of the school in the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony. Draco already knew all about it so it wasn't anything new to him. When the tall witch standing at the front of the room-Professor McGonagall, was it?- called his name, he strode casually over to the stool where she put the hat on him. It had barely touched his head when it bellowed SLYTHERIN! and a deafening roar ensued from the table on the far right.

Draco joined them and many fellow Slytherins patted him on the back. Crabbe and Goyle soon joined them as well and Draco winked at them from across the table. He was already off to a great start, and this was only just the beginning.


	4. Mudbloods and Murmurs

**CHAPTER 4: MUDBLOODS AND MURMURS**

Draco's first year at Hogwarts was mediocre. As it turned out, Harry Potter was some sort of a hero to the entire school, not to mention the wizarding world, so everywhere he went, heads turned and whispers exchanged. It made Draco sick, just looking at him. Even worse, Potter was some Quidditch god and was granted the seeker status on the Gryffindor team, something that had not happened in at least a century, Draco was sure. It was completely unfair. That boy was getting everything he wanted only because he was famous!

Draco tried to get him in trouble a couple of times, just to teach him a lesson, but he always managed to slip away. It was a shame that that troll didn't crush him to pieces when he had the chance.

The end-of-year feast however, was absolutely abysmal. Potter apparently killed Professor Quirrell, who had something about Voldemort lurking on the back of his head, and was now being even more praised. Because of that, and the stupid headmaster's love and affection for the boy, Gryffindor won the house cup.

When Draco got off the train at the end of term and greeted his parents, he recounted all the details of the year to them, leaving nothing out. They listened and gasped at the crucial moments as they made their way back home.

When Draco was done, Narcissa leaned in to whisper to Lucius.

"Could it be true?"

"It's hard to say," he replied as they entered their home and dropped their coats on the ground for their house elf, Dobby, to pick up.

"But how could he come back?" nudged Narcissa.

"I don't know," said Lucius, rubbing his eyes. "Maybe…maybe he's nearly ready to return for good."

"That's good, isn't it?"

Lucius paused for a second, then dragged Narcissa to the other room and closed the door behind them. Draco instinctively ran to the door to eavesdrop.

"You don't understand," Lucius was saying. "We are traitors. He disappeared and we convinced everyone that he'd had us under the imperious curse and we weren't really loyal. If he returns and this gets out, he will kill us all."

"Don't be ridiculous, Lucius," Narcissa told him. "He loved us! Don't you remember how he always boasted about how we were his favorite?"

"That was a long time ago," interjected Lucius.

"…and little Draco. Oh, he would just adore Draco!"

Draco smiled to himself.

Dobby the house elf entered the room and grabbed the coats in the doorway, rather noisily.

"Quiet!" Draco spat at him.

"Dobby apologizes, Master Draco," squeaked the elf.

"Shut up!" cried Draco, pressing his ear harder against the door.

"…maybe I could find a way to bring him back myself and all will be forgiven…" his father was saying.

"…Mulciver once mentioned something about a book he had…should we send for him?"

Draco, tired of this conversation, headed up the stairs to change.

Later that day, as the family sat down for dinner, Lucius turned to his son.

"Listen, I know this year was disappointing but the next will be nothing in comparison. I promise."

"Why?" said Draco, narrowing his eyes.

"We've got to keep it secret for now, but you'll know everything soon enough."

"You have a very bright future ahead of you, sweetheart," Narcissa added, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder.

For the rest of the summer, his parents disappeared for hours at a time and always came back looking very serious. He didn't care though. Crabbe and Goyle had come to visit loads of times and they practiced Quidditch together in the backyard. Still, the summer seemed to drag on by and Draco found himself looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. One night, at the end of July, his parents were out again and Draco needed his broom polished. He screamed around the house for Dobby but the stupid elf would not show himself. Draco called for the other servants to find him but they were unsuccessful. Hours later, his parents returned and Dobby appeared, looking rather breathless.

"Where have you been?!" Draco barked at him.

"Dobby was cleaning the dungeons, sir," said the elf.

"LIAR!" cried Draco.

"What happened?" said Narcissa, looking from the elf to her son. "What has he done?"

"He went somewhere!" bellowed Draco. "I know it!"

Lucius took a threatening step towards the elf who jumped a few feet back.

"Did he, now?" he said.

The elf began to shake with fear as he looked up at the family.

"And exactly where is it that you have gone tonight, _slave_?" sneered Lucius.

"Dobby hasn't gone, sir," squeaked the elf. "Dobby was in the dungeons, sir. Cleaning them, sir. Dobby swears it. Dobby would never—"

Lucius kicked him hard in the stomach with his snake cane. Draco laughed out loud as the elf squealed with pain.

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" Lucius spat and the elf ran from the room.

"Sweetheart," Narcissa put her hand on Draco's shoulder. "I'm afraid I can't come with you tomorrow."

Draco turned to look at her.

"Where are you going?" he asked, curiously.

"I have to go visit my sister," she told him. "It's been a while and something's come up and…I've got to see her. But your father will come with you, won't he?" She turned to Lucius who nodded.

"I wouldn't miss it," he said.

The next day, Draco and his father made their way to Diagon Alley to buy all of his books and robes. It only took them a few minutes of following around Daily Prophet reporters before they located all the commotion at Flourish and Blotts. Draco already knew what it was all about and so he stalked up the stairs instead and went in search of a book his father had recommended he read: _The Unforgivable Curses Exposed_.

"Showoff," he muttered to himself as he looked down at the Potter boy being photographed with Gilderoy Lockart.

When he was finally freed from the crowd, Draco tore off the page from the book that instructed the wand movements for the 3 unforgivable curses, pocketed it, and went to confront him.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the famous Harry Potter," he spat at him. "Can't even go into a _book _shop without making the front page!"

The youngest Weasley girl took a determined step towards him.

"Leave him alone!" she said.

Draco roared with laughter.

"Oh look, Potter, you've got yourself a _girlfriend!_"

At that moment, his father's snake cane hit him hard on the shoulder and he backed down.

"Now, now, Draco, play nicely," he told him.

Draco's sneer faded as Lucius turned to Potter.

"Mr. Potter, I'm Lucius Malfoy. We meet at last." He shook the boy's hand and then brought him closer to examine his forehead. "Forgive me, your scar is legend, as of course is the wizard who gave it to you."

"Voldemort killed my parents," said Potter, backing away. "He was nothing more than a murderer."

Lucius glared down at him.

"Mm…you must be very brave to mention his name, or very foolish."

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," said the Granger girl who now joined the Weasleys and Potter.

Lucius looked her up and down.

"And you must be…" he turned to Draco. "Ms. Granger?"

Draco nodded and gave her a look of deep dislike.

"Yes, Draco has told me all about you," Lucius told the girl, "And your parents… muggles, aren't they?"

He turned to the Weasleys.

"Let me see, red hair, vacant expressions…tatty, second-hand books? Ha, you must be the _Weasleys_!"

Draco grinned. He didn't know how his father did it, but he knew he really wanted to learn.

Suddenly, the Weasleys' father joined the group.

"Well, well, well, Weasley Senior!" smiled Lucius.

"Lucius," said the man.

"Isn't it untidy at the ministry, Arthur? All those extra raids?"

The two continued to talk while Draco glared at Potter who glared back at him. He really loathed him…the whole lot of them. He wanted nothing more but for them to be severely punished. But how? How would he achieve this?

"I'll see you at work," Lucius finished, and with one last glance at the little Weasley girl, he turned around and walked out of the shop.

"See you at school," Draco told them, and he followed his father out.

They walked down the street without a word, and then turned round the corner into Knockturn Alley.

"I think I left something at Borgin's," Lucius told him. "Wait for me here, will you?"

"Father," Draco interjected. Lucius turned to look at him. "Will this year really be better?"

"Yes," Lucius smiled down at him. "I promise. _You_ will enjoy it."

One month after term had started, Draco was sitting in the Slytherin common room with Crabbe and Goyle, playing wizard's chess, when he received a letter from his father:

_Draco,_

_I hope you are having a good term so far. Things are rather the same back at home. That rotten house elf keeps disappearing off to somewhere, but that doesn't matter now. Your mother has fallen ill but she is expected to soon make a full recovery. Things are rather busy at the Ministry but all is well. Son, I have promised you a good year and I will keep that promise. Tomorrow, 7 new broomsticks will arrive in the common room…all of them Nimbus 2001's. Consider this a gift to the Slytherin Quidditch team. That ought to seal the deal, I think. _

_I will be coming to watch the first match, of course. I can't wait to see you play. _

_Also, something will soon happen. I won't go into too much detail about it, but you'll know when it happens. Consider it a gift from me to you. _

_With love,_

_Your father_

Sure enough, the next day, the broomsticks were waiting in the common room, all of them shiny and well-polished. Marcus Flint beamed at Draco as he examined his new broomstick.

"Malfoy, you're in!" he cried and the Slytherins cheered Draco on and threw him into the air with excitement.

Draco felt the utmost affection for his father in that moment. So far, the year was golden.

Later that week, Draco and his team were making their way over to the Quidditch pitch to practice when they bumped into the Gryffindor team.

"I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today," Oliver Wood was saying.

"Easy, Wood, I've got a note," said Flint, thrusting the parchment into Wood's hand.

Wood read it through carefully and then looked up.

"You've got a new seeker? Who?"

The team spread out to reveal Draco who sneered at the Gryffindors.

"Malfoy?!" cried Potter with disbelief.

"That's right," boasted Draco. "And that's not all that's new this year."

Weasley and Granger joined as well, and all of the Gryffindors suddenly noticed the Slytherins' brooms.

"Those are Nimbus 2001's!" Cried Weasley. "How did you get those?!"

"A gift from Draco's father," said Flint, proudly.

"You see, Weasley," Draco smiled. "Unlike _some_, _my_ father can afford the _best_!"

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy_ their way in," cried Granger. "They got in on pure talent!"

Draco frowned and took a few steps towards her.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little mudblood."

Some of the Gryffindors gasped while the Slytherins grinned broadly.

"You'll pay for that one, Malfoy," cried Weasley, and he raised his wand directly at Draco.

Red light shot out of the wrong end and hit Weasley square in the chest. He toppled over and threw up a few slugs. It was revolting, yet very amusing to watch.

A few days before the opening match, Slytherin vs. Gryffindor, something big happened…something that Draco knew his father had planned. On the third floor, someone had written on the wall in blood: "THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE". There was a whole lot of commotion. Then, Dumbledore cleared everyone out and Crabbe and Goyle followed Draco back to the common room.

Draco sank into an armchair.

"About time this happened," he exclaimed. His eyes were sparkling with glee as Crabbe and Goyle sat across from him.

"Tell us more, Draco," said Goyle. "What's happening?"

Draco sat up as though about to tell a story. Several other Slytherins joined in to listen.

"Father told me once—I don't remember when—that Salazar Slytherin had been a hidden chamber in this castle… it's called the Chamber of Secrets and apparently there's some big monster inside that attacks mudbloods whenever it's unleashed."

The people in the room gasped with excitement.

"So that means…" began Goyle.

"Yes," said Draco. "It means that if the chamber has been opened now, the monster will start to attack soon."

"Wow!" cried Crabbe. "That's a brilliant plan!"

"Isn't it?" smiled Draco. "Soon, this castle will consist of the purest blood in any dwelling."

The Quidditch match was far from what Draco had expected. Not only did Potter catch the stupid snitch and Gryffindor won yet again, but Draco took a terrible fall and ended up in the hospital wing…with Potter as well. It was embarrassing! HIS VERY FIRST MATCH AND HE ENDED UP IN THE HOSPITAL! The snitch must have been rigged. Someone must have bewitched it. He would have his father investigate this immediately.

Meanwhile, things at the castle were not looking very bright for everyone else. More and more mudbloods were being attacked…first some ruddy first-year who always followed Potter around, and then that Fletchley bloke from Hufflepuff.

"Dumbledore will soon be gone too," Draco told his friends.

"But he's not a mudblood, is he?" cried Crabbe.

Draco rolled his eyes at him.

"_No_, but he is good as. Father always said that Dumbledore was the worst thing that ever happened to this place. And he was bloody well right. Just look at all the filth that this monster is clearing out. I swear, it's about time. This play could use some serious cleaning."

The months proceeded to pass on by and soon it was the Christmas Holidays. Draco was all packed and ready to go when his owl arrived, carrying a small piece of parchment. He unfolded it in his dormitory and read:

_Draco,_

_Mother and I have some business to take care of this year. I'm afraid we must insist that you stay behind at the castle. I hope Quidditch will go better next time I come to watch. I can't say I wasn't disappointed. Then again, there must have been something wrong with that snitch. I'll look into it. _

_On another note, I hope you understand everything that has been happening at school. About time it has, isn't it? _

_Lots of love,_

_Your Father_

Draco shrugged. It didn't matter to him that he had to stay behind. Maybe the creature would attack more mudbloods and he'd have more reason to celebrate. Then again, Potter and his bloody friends were staying behind too. That wouldn't be very much fun.

Draco spent most of the days practicing Quidditch or playing cards with Crabbe and Goyle, though they were always eating sweets and therefore had constant stomach aches. He found himself getting very bored, waiting for the monster to act again. He'd so hoped it would attack Granger sometime soon, so that he could see the looks on Potter's and Weasley's faces. It would be the perfect Christmas gift.

Even better, the whole school seemed to think that it was Potter who was the Heir of Slytherin. This was beyond amusing to Draco. Everyone was scared of Potter now and he was delighted to see him shunned.

It was only after the Christmas holidays that word got out that Granger had been attacked. Draco ran to the hospital wing to see it for himself, and bawled with laughter at the sight of her petrified body on the bed. She had got exactly what had been coming for her. Madame Pomfrey kicked him out but he ran to tell Crabbe and Goyle who cheered along with him.

His father had been right. This year was nothing compared to the last. It had to have been probably the best year that Hogwarts had had in over 50 years. And just like that, everything got ruined. Potter just had to find the Chamber of Secrets, go down there, save the bloody Weasley girl who'd been taken captive by the monster, battle the monster, and save all who had been petrified. Pathetic! They had come so close to ridding the castle of all filth!

The Gryffindors won the house cup for the second time, and once again, the castle was filled with cheers, celebration, joy, and laughter. It was sickening! Draco stomped all the way to the Hogwarts Express without another word to Crabbe or Goyle, and stayed mute all the way home.

"Draco!" Narcissa cried, trying to hug him when he got off the train, but he shrugged her off.

"Nice going, dad," he said to Lucius, and without another word, he stalked off.

"DON'T YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!" Lucius bellowed when they'd reached their home.

Draco spun around.

"YOU SAID YOU WOULD FIX EVERYTHING!"

"I TRIED!" cried Lucius. Narcissa held him back. "I TRIED, I HONESTLY TRIED."

"Well, it failed!"

There was a long pause as the three Malfoys stood in the corridor.

"DOBBY!" Draco bellowed, throwing his trunk down.

"He's gone," Narcissa told him.

"What?!" Cried Draco.

"That Potter boy freed him," Lucius sneered. "But mark my words, he will get what is coming to him. You'll see."

"I hope so," Draco declared.


	5. Hogwarts: A Mudblood's Territory

**CHAPTER 5: HOGWARTS, A MUDBLOOD'S TERRITORY**

The third year at Hogwarts was not very eventful. Sure, there were dementors at every entrance to the castle. Potter had fainted a couple of times, that was always fun to hear. There was also some mass murderer out on the loose…Sirius Black. Apparently, he was Draco's great uncle or whatever, but Draco decided not to reveal this to anyone. His mother told him that the history of that part of her family was very complicated, so he decided not to bother with it.

He did however have a very unnerving Care of Magical Creatures lesson this year, when that ugly oaf's giant chicken or whatever it was attacked him. Draco's arm swelled up at bit. Madame Pomfrey patched it up for him but he still walked around with his cast on, for fear that it would get worse. Pansy Parkinson looked to be genuinely concerned about him and so he let her check up on him every half hour. It was quite enjoyable.

Professor Snape made his life a whole lot easier too, by forcing Potter and Weasley to cut his ingredients for him during Potions lessons. It was too hilarious to watch.

All that had happened the previous year with the Chamber of Secrets was long forgotten. Shame. They had really come close to making a difference around this place. Nevertheless, Draco had a pretty good year.

Fourth year however, differed immensely. The Triwizard Tournament was hosted at Hogwarts and 4, not 3, but FOUR champions were selected to compete…Viktor Krum of Durmstrang, Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons, Cedric Diggory of Hogwarts, and, yes, the _famous_ Harry Potter as well. Draco was furious when he found out that Potter had gotten his name into the goblet of fire, but not for long. His father sent him a letter explaining what the last tournament consisted of, and now Draco could not wait until the first task.

Even better, Rita Skeeter, a reporter for the Daily Prophet, was writing some very steamy articles about Potter, which Draco always looked forward to reading at breakfast. He took it upon himself to boast about these articles as loudly as possible, especially during Potions classes. Professor Snape enjoyed this very much, though he didn't say so. But Draco could tell.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was abysmal this year, just as it had been the last. Dumbledore had asked some auror to teach it and he was tormenting Draco all the time. Last year, it had been a werewolf who had taught the subject. Draco did not know which was worse.

"It's really unfair that they don't give you the position, Professor," he told Snape one day. "I mean, we've had such terrible teachers."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy," Snape replied simply.

Draco and his father exchanged a lot of mail that year, most of which was discussing the tournament. Lucius bet that Potter wouldn't last 5 minutes. This gave Draco a laugh for he was willing to go to 10. After all, Potter did manage to somehow defeat that basilisk in their second year…maybe he had an ounce of strength left in him.

But as the year progressed, Draco was proved wrong. Potter had more than an ounce. He excelled at the first task and defeated the dragon with barely any injuries. It was pathetic. They couldn't have thrown something harder at him, could they? This was all Dumbledore's doing, Draco was sure of it.

As the Yule Ball drew nearer, Draco decided to let it all go for he was sure the second task would be even better than the first. He still tormented Potter wherever he went, and Weasley and Granger too. One night, he was sitting in the common room when Pansy joined him on the couch.

"Draco," she said, dreamily. "Are you going to the Yule ball?"

"Yes," he said, casually, flipping the page of the Daily Prophet.

"Me too!" she squealed.

He raised an eyebrow at her and grinned.

"I guess I'll see you there, then?"

"Oh, yes that would be lovely!" she beamed at him and his grin broadened.

That was bloody easy. Poor Weasley and Potter would probably show up together without dates.

The rest of the year was almost as pathetic as first year had been. Potter actually _won_ the tournament. Apparently, something had happened in some graveyard—Draco hadn't heard all the details but he was sure once he got home, his father would recount everything to him—and the Dark Lord returned. But it could all just be rumors; probably another one of Potter's scams to get more attention. Pathetic!

Sure enough, when Draco came home for the summer, his parents sat him down for a little chat.

"No one believes that the Dark Lord has returned," Lucius told him, seriously. "And you must not tell them otherwise. As far as you're concerned, Potter is a nutcase and the Dark Lord is still hiding somewhere. Understand?"

Draco would have argued, but the look his father gave him told him that it was better to stay quiet this time, so he nodded understandably.

"It's all going to be very good," Narcissa told him. "And you'll see your aunts and uncles soon!"

"I will?"

"Of course!" Narcissa beamed at him. "This is our time. Things will be happening fast now and _he _will reward us all."

Draco sincerely hoped they were right. It had taken too long for Potter to be punished, but now he was sure it would happen soon.

Towards the end of the summer, the Daily Prophet buzzed with news on Potter's dementor attack.

"He's expelled!" Draco exclaimed, thrusting the newspaper in Narcissa's hands. "DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS?"

"I did not!" she cried, reading the newspaper quickly.

"This is bloody excellent!" Draco exclaimed, throwing a fist into the air.

Narcissa smiled at him and scanned the newspaper.

"It says here that he lost his temper and decided to attack a park full of muggles!"

"I'm sure he did!" cried Draco. "The man's a nutcase!"

Narcissa laughed.

A few weeks later, however, the Daily Prophet told them that Dumbledore had persuaded the ministry to let Potter off with a warning. Every bit of excitement that had consumed Draco previously was now gone. When Lucius came home from work that night, however, he was beaming with delight.

"It's alright," he told them. "The hearing didn't go well but I spoke to Fudge afterwards and he said he's going to send in help."

"Help?" said Narcissa.

"Mhm," nodded Lucius, smiling at Draco. "At Hogwarts."

"You mean he's going to send one of his people there?"

"Yes. You will like her, Draco."

"_Her_?" scoffed Draco. "I dunno…what does she look like?"

Lucius laughed.

"Like a toad, but I'm not talking about her looks, son. You will like her disciplinary tactics and her attitude towards Potter and Dumbledore."

"Ah," smiled Draco. "We'll see."

Sure enough, when he returned to Hogwarts for fifth-year and met this Ministry Official, a Delores Umbridge, his father's claims were all confirmed. She was awful, and Draco really liked her. This was it. This was going to be his year! He had been made a prefect, he finally had a decent Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, and everybody seemed to hate Potter for the claims he'd been making about the Dark Lord…and Dumbledore too.

Potter seemed to be very angry everywhere he went. Draco made a few remarks once and Potter lost it and nearly lunged at him, but Weasley stopped him in time. He was a complete nutcase.

Delores Umbridge made Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle heads of her Inquisitorial Staff and they were delighted. Everything was going so well. Potter was always in detention with either Umbridge or Snape. Draco was waltzing around the castle, giving detentions to anyone he wanted, with his prefect's badge sparkling and gleaming on the front of his robes. Pansy was also very friendly with him so he had quite a bit of fun with her.

The best of all was Quidditch. Ron Weasley had joined the Gryffindor team and he sucked beyond recognition. The Slytherins were all bloody thrilled to watch him play, that they decided to write a song, which Draco was more than happy to help orchestrate:

_Weasley cannot save a thing,_

_He cannot block a single ring,_

_That's why Slytherins all sing:_

_Weasley is our king._

_Weasley was born in a bin_

_He always lets the Quaffle in_

_Weasley will make sure we win_

_Weasley is our king._

_Weasley is our king._

_Weasley is our king._

_He always lets the Quaffle in._

_Weasley is our king._

Draco and his friends attended every single one of Gryffindor's practices just to sing the song and watch Weasley make a fool of himself. One time, Draco decided that watching wasn't enough. He strode over to the pitch and joined the Gryffindors who were huddled around on the grass.

"Like our song?" he called to them. Weasley and Potter turned to glare at him. "We wanted to write another couple of verses, but we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly—we wanted to sing about your mother, see…we couldn't fit in 'useless loser' either—for his father, you know…But you like the Weasleys, don't you Potter? Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by muggles, even the Weasley's hovel smells okay…Or perhaps, you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it—"

Before he could finish, Potter and one of the older Weasley twins lunged at him. They struggled on the grass for a bit before they were pulled apart.

"NUTCASE!" Draco yelled after them as he ran off.

Later that day, he found out from Professor Snape that Umbridge had given Potter and the Weasley twins a lifetime Quidditch ban. To celebrate, Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy snuck off to Hogsmeade and brought back butterbeers.

After a snogging session with Pansy one night (a few months later) Draco returned to the Slytherin common room to find Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise Zabini huddled over by the fireplace, whispering excitedly.

"What's going on?" Draco called to them and they all jumped at the sight of him.

"Come here!" Goyle motioned and Draco sat with them. "Word has it that Potter had some mad nightmare tonight. Apparently, Arthur Weasley's been attacked. They're all headed over to St. Mungo's right now!"

"Blimey, no kidding!" laughed Draco. "Are you sure?"

"Dead sure," confirmed Blaise. "I heard Zacharias Smith talking about it."

"I told you, Potter's a nutcase!" exclaimed Draco. "Always has been. Glad the public is now finally starting to realize it. Oh and it's a shame about what happened to that Weasley. I reckon he'd be better off dead, wouldn't you?"

The boys laughed.

At the end of the year, everything collided, as it always did. Umbridge was taken away, Dumbledore returned, and everyone finally found out that the Dark Lord had returned. But for Draco, the most devastating of all was his father's imprisonment. There had been a struggle over at the Department of Mysteries and his father had been found out by the Minister of Magic and placed in Azkaban immediately. Draco was heartbroken and did not say another word to anyone for the rest of the week that remained of term…not to Crabbe or Goyle, Blaise, or even Pansy.

On the last day, Draco waved his wand to pack his suitcase and hurried out of the castle towards the train station, when Snape stopped him.

"I need to talk to you," he said and he dragged him off to a corner. Draco eyed him carefully.

"I wanted to tell you that it is all going to be alright," said Snape coolly. "We have big plans for this next year. We will free your father soon enough."

"Yeah," Draco muttered, avoiding Snape's gaze.

Snape let him go and Draco hurried off to find a compartment to himself. He sent Crabbe and Goyle away when they found him, and stared out the window for the entire journey. Nothing mattered to him anymore, now that his father was gone. All he cared about was getting him back. Quidditch and Potter were so irrelevant now. He wasn't even sure he had any time left for Pansy or any of his Slytherin friends. All he wanted was to return home to his mother. But he knew very well that once he did, his home would be empty. His father would not be there, and it wasn't certain when, or if, he would return at all.


	6. The Real Chosen One

**CHAPTER 6: THE _REAL_ CHOSEN ONE**

Draco slowly paced around his room as the rain thundered against his windows. The clock on the wall ticked away into the silence and the floorboards gently creaked below his feet. The meeting was taking forever. He could hear some vacant whispers but could not make out a single word. He sunk into a chair and gazed up at the ceiling, wondering what his father was doing at this very moment…probably dodging some dementors. The thought of it made Draco sick to his stomach. He rose to his feet and began to pace again. He needed to be doing _something_ so his thoughts would not go there again.

Finally, Narcissa gently knocked on his bedroom door and he flung it open. She stood in the doorway for a moment, looking very tearful. Draco noticed the red mark on her cheek before she embraced him in a hug. Finally, she let go and motioned for him to follow her.

His aunt was sitting in the living room, playing around with her wand when they walked in.

"Draco!" she cackled, rising to her feet to give him a big hug. He let her.

"Hi Bella," he said softly.

"Come sweetie, sit down, sit down."

He sat.

"Draco," said Narcissa, quietly. "We have some very important things to discuss with you, alright?"

Draco's throat tightened and he did not speak. He couldn't help noticing that the front doors had been triple locked and all the blinds on the windows were shut. Bella was waving her wand and he knew that the muffliato spell was in action. Whatever they had to say to him, it was something top secret…something to do with the Dark Lord and his father. He was sure of it.

Draco spent a lot of time in his room that week, thinking about all that his mother had told him. His left arm pained him but he barely noticed. Bella had said that the dark mark would only hurt for a few days and then he wouldn't be sore anymore. Draco didn't care. All he cared about was what his mother had told him about the Dark Lord. This was never going to work.

Sometime the following week, Draco followed his mother, aunt, and a few other relatives to Borgin and Burke's down in Knockturn Alley. Greyback came along too, which only made Draco more nervous. He hated him with a passion, though he never dared to say so. Greyback was not just any werewolf…he was the most sick-minded werewolf he'd ever met. His idea of a good joke consisted of photographing his victims and displaying these images around for other Deatheaters to examine.

Borgin was rather nervous when they entered his shop, but he led them to the corner straightaway, where there stood a tall closet. Narcissa nodded at her son and he slowly stepped towards it and felt it with the tips of his fingers. The texture was bumpy and the wood very dark. He opened the closet and saw that it was empty. A loud bang sounded and Draco spun around to see that Greyback had shut the windows and closed all the curtains, blocking the outside world.

"This is it, then?" Draco asked Borgin who bowed low to him.

"Yes, Master," he croaked.

Draco looked back at the vanishing cabinet without another word.

"So you'll work on it, yes?" said Bella, casually.

Draco slowly nodded.

"So it's all going to be just fine!" said Bella, putting an arm around his shoulder. "Want to go visit your dad now?"

"No," said Narcissa. Draco stared at her. "The Dark Lord gave us specific instructions not to visit Azkaban."

Draco remembered the mark that had been on her cheek last week and assumed that the Dark Lord had been responsible for it.

"He's been at our house, then?"

Narcissa nodded.

"Then when will he release father?" he croaked.

Narcissa said nothing. Bella however, voiced what Draco was thinking.

"The Dark Lord wishes for your father to spend a little more time in Azkaban."

"WHY?" he cried.

No one said another word. He didn't need them to answer this. He knew that this was only the Dark Lord's idea of punishment for his father. Lucius had failed him last year by letting that prophecy break. This was just another game that the Dark Lord had conjured up. But was Draco now part of that game? The thought sent a shiver down his spine and he looked away from his mother and aunt.

He spent a good portion of the journey on the train back to Hogwarts glaring out the window. Blaise and Crabbe were discussing Quidditch while Goyle snacked on chocolate frogs. Pansy however, gave Draco worried glances every now and then, until he gave her a look that told her to go and take a walk. When she came back an hour later, Draco rose to get something from his bag. Suddenly, the entire train cart went black with some sort of a powder.

"What's that?!" Draco cried, coughing along with the rest of the Slytherins.

"It's probably just some first years messing around," Pansy told him. "Come on, sit down, Draco. We'll be at Hogwarts soon."

Draco did as she said, but avoided her gaze.

"Hogwarts," he scoffed after a while, to no one in particular, though Blaise and Pansy were listening intently. "What a pathetic excuse for a school. I think I'd pinch myself off the astronomy tower before I had to continue for another two years."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Pansy.

Draco paused before answering.

"Let's just say I don't think you'll see me wasting my time in charms class next year."

At this, Blaise scoffed, turning Draco's attention to him.

"Amused, Blaise?" he raised his eyebrows. "We'll see just who's laughing in the end."

Just then, Draco's bag shifted itself on the shelf. He stared at it for a long time and didn't say another word to anyone else for the rest of the train ride. By the time they'd reached Hogsmeade station, Draco had already figured it out and remained seated as Pansy turned round to see if he was getting off.

"You two go on," he told her. "I want to check something."

He waited until the train was empty and then locked the door and closed all the blinds.

"Didn't mummy ever tell you that it was rude to eavesdrop, Potter?" he said as he removed his wand. He turned round and pointed it directly at his bag. "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"

It fell to the floor with a loud thump. Draco removed the invisibility cloak to reveal Potter who lay frozen on the floor.

"Oh yeah," he laughed. "She was dead before you could wipe the drool off your chin."

He glared at Potter and then kicked his face hard with his leg. He leaned closer so that Potter could hear him clearly.

"That's for my father!" He threw the cloak back over him. "Enjoy your ride back to London."

And with that, he exited the compartment.

Potter arrived in the Great Hall halfway through the dessert portion of the welcome-back feast. Draco barely noticed him though. He also barely touched his plate, but just sat there, listening to the chatter of the Slytherins around him.

"Draco, won't you eat something?" Pansy tried.

He shook his head at her and sank lower into his chair.

Dumbledore rose to his feet and began his speech, which barely interested Draco. He glared over at the Gryffindor table, where Potter was smiling at the Weasley girl. How nice it was for him to have nothing important to think about.

"…now as you know," Dumbledore's voice grew louder. "Each and every one of you was searched upon your arrival here tonight, and you have the right to know why. Once, there was a young man who, like you, sat in this very hall, walked this castle's corridor, slept under its roof…seemed to all the world, a student like any other. His name? Tom Riddle."

The hall buzzed with loud whispers and some shivered at the sound of the name.

"Today, of course," continued Dumbledore as the whispers died down, "He is known all over the world by another name, which is why, as I stand here before you, I am reminded of a sobering fact: Every day, every hour, this very minute perhaps, dark forces attempt to penetrate this castle's walls."

Draco looked up at him and was surprised that Dumbledore's silver eyes met his.

"But in the end, their greatest weapon is _you_."

Draco's heart began to beat rapidly and he looked away from those accusatory eyes.

"Just something to think about," Dumbledore added. "Now off to bed!"

Draco kept his head bent low as he followed the storm of Slytherins out of the Great Hall and into the dungeons where the Slytherin Common Room was hidden. Pansy tried to hug him when they bumped into each other that night but he merely pushed her away and retreated to his dormitory. He lay awake the entire night, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about Dumbledore's words. And just before sleep greeted him like an old friend, an image of his father appeared before his eyes, and a tear trickled down his cheek.

The next day seemed to drag on by. Pansy had to practically drag Draco to his classes for he didn't seem to have any will to go himself. During their potions lesson, Potter gave him a dirty look which Draco returned automatically. Then, something that Professor Slughorn said caught his attention.

"I offer one vile of liquid luck to the student who, within the hour that remains, manages to brew a perfect draught of the Living Dead, the recipes for which can be found on page 6 of your books. Know this, only one student has ever managed to succeed in brewing this difficult recipe. Nevertheless, good luck to you all. Let the brewing commence!"

Draco took interest in this project and put all his efforts into making the potion. Though, after a while, he came into so many complications and gave up quickly. The potion was indeed difficult to make, and he doubted that even if he did have luck, he'd succeed in his mission.

There was no surprise at all that at the end of the lesson, Professor Slughorn gave the liquid luck vile to Potter who grinned broadly as he received it. Typical. Potter always got everything, yet he still wanted pity. What a pathetic excuse for _'the chosen one'_.

The months passed on by and Draco had still not succeeded in his mission. He'd successfully passed on a cursed necklace to Gryffindor Katie Bell and imperio'd her to hand it over to Dumbledore, but the necklace got intercepted on the way and was never delivered. He visited the Room of Requirement whenever he was free and tried to work that second vanishing cabinet, while Crabbe and Goyle—whom he'd imperio'd into taking polyjuice potion and posing as girls—monitored the corridors for any lurkers. Draco strongly suspected that Potter was onto him as he seemed to be always watching him from the distance. Git.

Things were not going well at all with the vanishing cabinet. He'd inserted an apple into it and tried to send it over to the twin cabinet but it didn't work. Things were _really_ not going well at all.

He began to skip Quidditch matches. Snape wrote notes for him which kept him on the team but excused him from games. He avoided Snape altogether for he had a feeling that his mother had had a chat with him and that Snape was watching him more closely now. That was the last thing he needed.

Everyone seemed to have forgotten about what happened to Katie Bell. She was in St. Mungo's, not the Hogwarts hospital wing, so it was easy to forget that she'd been attacked. All that mattered to Draco however was that no one suspected that he had been behind it.

During the last Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match before the holidays, Draco sat in the Room of Requirement and stared at the vanishing cabinet, waiting for it to react. It did not. He tried again, pointing his wand at it and whispering "Harmonia Nectere Passus! Harmonia Nectere Passus! Harmonia Nectere Passus!"

Nothing happened. It wasn't working. _Nothing_ was working. And he was forever doomed. He spent the rest of the day there and only left when it was really dark out. Instead of going back to the Slytherin common room however, he turned the other way and headed straight for the astronomy tower. It was windy and snowy out, but he didn't care. He stood at the top of the tower, and gazed into the distant lake and mountains, thinking about his father.

Back in the castle, the Gryffindors were cheering in celebration of their victory while the Slytherins groaned at their loss. Some students were studying in the library while others were playing Wizard's Chess or already sleeping in their warm, comfortable beds. Everyone was leading their own life, careless and ignorant to what was _really_ important. And here he stood—with the most important job in the world, a dark mark scarred on his left arm, and the secret title of the _real _Chosen One—and he found himself wishing he could be anybody else at that moment… even a pathetic, useless, _brave _little Gryffindor.

On the night of Slughorn's Christmas party, Draco waited until the coast was clear and then headed back to the Room of Requirement to try the closet again. A wave of relief swept over him when it finally worked. The apple came back to him, half bitten (no doubt by Borgin himself), but very decent. It had _finally_ worked. He hadn't completely failed after all. But there was still the whole mission business that he had to take care of. Using the cursed necklace hadn't worked. He would have to find some other way.

As he made his way back to the common room, he stopped to listen to the music coming from the party. He moved closer to the curtains and thought he heard Snape's voice.

"…and he hopes that you enjoy your holidays. He's travelling and he won't return until term resumes…"

Draco leaned in closer to listen, though suddenly he felt an arm grab his shoulder and jerk him forwards. It was Argus Filch and he was dragging Draco into the center of the room. The music stopped and everyone stared.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME, YOU FILTHY SQUIB!" Draco cried but Filch would not let go.

"Professor Slughorn, sir," Filch announced. "I've just discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party—"

"Okay, okay, I was gate crashing!" cried Draco. "Happy?!"

Snape stepped forwards, moving away from Potter. It was _Potter_! He had been talking to _Potter_! But about who? Dumbledore, maybe?

"I'll escort him out," Snape told Filch, who finally let go of Draco.

Draco straightened up and looked Snape in the eye.

"Certainly, _professor_."

They exited the hall together and walked along the dark corridors of the third floor. Snape began to question Draco who tried to ignore him.

"Maybe I did hex that Bell girl," Draco finally said. "Maybe I didn't. What's it to _you_?!"

Suddenly, Snape grabbed him by his collar and threw him against the wall.

"I _swore_ to protect you!" he whispered, his voice hoarse but very serious. "I made the unbreakable vow!"

"I DON'T NEED PROTECTION!" Draco whispered back, angry. "I WAS CHOSEN FOR THIS! OUT OF ALL OTHERS, _ME_! I WON'T FAIL HIM—"

"You're afraid, Draco," Snape said coolly. "You've attempted to conceal it but it's obvious. Let me _assist_ you!"

"NO!" Draco cried. "_I_ WAS CHOSEN FOR THIS! THIS IS _MY_ MOMENT!"

And with one jerk of the hand, he freed himself from Snape's grip and stormed away, cursing under his breath.

Christmas at the Malfoy house was very unpleasant that year. Narcissa tried to get some information out of him but Draco would not budge. Bella was very pleased when Borgin revealed to her that the transporting of the apple had worked like a charm.

"So everything is going well, then?" Narcissa pressed Draco.

He merely looked at her in response.

"When is father getting out?"

Narcissa fell silent and Bella looked away too. This was enough answer.

Draco spent the rest of the Christmas holidays locked up in his room, pacing. On Christmas Eve, Bella returned to the house, laughing uncontrollably.

"Set it on fire! Set it on fire! WE SET IT ON FIRE!" she was dancing and singing in the dining room.

"The burrow?!" Draco heard his mother exclaim. "Did you get anybody?"

"Nope, but it doesn't matter," Bella replied. "Potter was furious as I screamed little Sirius's name at him."

Narcissa laughed. Draco, on the other hand, did not join them but stayed up in his room. He thought of his father again and wondered what sort of plans the Dark Lord had for him next. Would he free him once Draco completed his mission, or was he truly underestimating him?

When term resumed, Draco had come up with a new plan to execute. He managed to send a poisoned bottle of a holiday drink to Professor Slughorn, with a note that it would make the perfect gift to the Headmaster. It seemed ingenious…like there was nothing that could go wrong with it. But the bottle ended up being opened early and drunk by none other than Ronald Weasley, who now lay in the hospital wing, recovering from his near-death experience.

Panicked, Draco stormed off to the girls' bathroom on the third floor…the one he knew no one ever visited… the one that had previously been the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. He paced around for a while, then washed his face and sat on the window ledge, crying.

Suddenly, a kind voice—almost like a whisper—sounded in his ear.

"Don't be afraid," it said. He turned around and found himself face-to-face with Moaning Myrtle, who smiled gently at him and took a seat beside him on the ledge.

He looked away.

"There's no need to be afraid," She told him.

"I'm doomed," he replied, his throat thick. "I… I've failed. I'm done."

"Failed what?" asked the ghost, but he merely looked at her and began to cry even more.

She put a gentle arm around his shoulder, though he could not feel it, and lay her head on his, crying with him.

Hours passed as they sat there together, unbothered by anyone from the outside world. If he had his way, he would just stay there for all eternity and not have to go back and deal with this great mess that he'd produced.


	7. Myrtle and the Lightning Struck Tower

**CHAPTER 7: MYRTLE AND THE LIGHTNING-STRUCK TOWER**

Draco proceeded to visit Moaning Myrtle once a week from then on. During these visits, they would sit together in the girls' lavatory and discuss his problem. Myrtle was kind and she listened rather than talked. Though as a ghost, she was not of much helped, Draco found himself comforted when he was talking to her. Somehow, her presence was enough help.

Small, slightly dark bags began to form under his eyes as the days passed. He wasn't getting much sleep and barely spent any time on schoolwork. His lessons dragged on by as he sat at his desk, staring at the board but not really seeing it. He also didn't eat much, for food in general became absolutely revolting to him. The worst of his problems occurred the day that Katie Bell returned to Hogwarts, alive and well. He had just left the Great Hall to go to the bathroom when he heard the excitement from within. Curious about all the buzz, he re-entered the Great Hall to find Katie Bell standing at the center, surrounded by a group of Gryffindors and few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and _Potter_. Draco stopped in his tracks. She was talking to _Potter_. Their voices were hushed but their faces serious. Suddenly, Katie caught Draco's eye and Potter turned round to look at him.

Heart pounding, head screaming, and sweat forming, Draco fled. He half-ran from the Great Hall, past storms of students headed for lunch, through crowded corridors, and to the deserted corridor on the 3rd floor, where the entrance to the girls' lavatory was.

Moaning Myrtle was nowhere in sight, but he hadn't come there for her. He stood in front of the sink and watched the water run between his fingers. His heart pounded even louder. He took his sweater vest off and threw it to the corner. Then, he threw water at his face and took several deep breaths. In the mirror, a scared little boy was looking back at him. He wanted to punch him, knock him out, and thrust some sense into him. But he couldn't. He was weak. He had failed. The Dark Lord had given him one simple job and he couldn't even do that. Oh, the shame that he had brought upon his family. The humiliation that his father would have to endure, once he returned from Azkaban. The tears that his mother would produce. The evil laugh that the Dark Lord would enjoy. It would all ruin him. He was doomed.

"I know what you did, Malfoy!" hissed a voice behind him. He spun round, recognizing it immediately.

Potter stood in the doorway, wand in hand.

"You hexed her, didn't you?" he went on.

Draco stared at him for a few seconds and then threw a jinx at him which hit the wall instead. Potter reacted by aiming a jinx at Draco which missed him and hit the sink instead. It exploded and water was thrust in all directions. Draco retaliated with another jinx and ducked as a flash of red light was aimed towards him. It hit one of the windows, and the glass was smashed to pieces.

Oh, how he_hated_ Potter.

Suddenly, another flash of light flew towards him—one he did not see. It hit him square in the chest and he was knocked backwards. Gushes of blood filled his eyes. His throat tightened and his arms and legs became very stiff. He could not move. He could not breathe. He could not think. Was he dead? He didn't even know that. It'd be better if he just died now. At least then, the Dark Lord wouldn't get to do it to him. He had failed anyway so it was better to die at the hands of a mediocre wizard, rather than the most powerful one in existence. Somehow, it didn't seem to matter to Draco whether he was alive or dead. Last year, he would've cared. He would've feared for his life, called for help, gasped for precious air. But now, he was ready to greet death like an old friend. But why wasn't it coming?

Everything was gone but he could still hear the sounds of water splashing in all directions…the sounds of Potter's heavy breathing as he seemed to have knelt down beside him…the sounds of footsteps rushing to the scene, and then Snape's cold voice muttering an incantation. Suddenly, everything changed. He could feel his arms and legs again. His breathing slowly got easier and the voices in his head stopped screaming. He began to slip away, feeling very drowsy and dizzy. Death was cunning, torturing him like this. But now, he could finally rest.

He woke in the hospital wing two days later to find Snape sitting next to his bed.

"Am I dead?" he asked him. His professor slowly shook his head.

"You're a fool who needs to rest."

Draco didn't say anything. He was not dead. He had even failed at that.

"I took care of Potter," Snape added. "I think detention until the end of the year should suffice it, don't you?"

Draco shrugged. He didn't seem to care much about what happened to Potter. He could drop dead at this very moment and it wouldn't do anything for Draco. All that mattered now was that he was alive… Snape had kept him alive so that the Dark Lord would kill him. He thought he was his friend—or at least his parents' friend—but he did this on purpose. And now, Draco would pay the price.

He did not sleep for all of the month of April. While Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise tossed in their sleep or let out low snores, Draco simply stared up at the ceiling and watched its wood color change from night to dusk to dawn. He was fresh out of ideas now and it was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord decided to eliminate him completely. That was a nauseating thought.

When the morning sun peaked in through the windows, the other boys moved around in their beds but did not make any attempts to wake up. Draco rose to his feet, dressed quietly, and tore a small piece of parchment. He thought for a long minute, scribbled on it, and crept across the dormitory and downstairs to the common room. He straightened up his tie and exited the dungeons, looking back several times as he walked.

The castle was very still in the early morning. Only a few ghosts were lurking around, but Draco did not disturb them. He found the Room of Requirement quickly and unfolded his bit of parchment again to check it:

_What if we set a date and time for your uninvited arrival at Hogwarts and I could do it then? _

_-Draco_

Satisfied, he folded it up and placed it inside the Vanishing Cabinet. The door clicked shut and the tip of his wand lit up as he whispered "Harmonia Nectere Passus" over and over again. A soft thud sounded from the cabinet and he opened it to find that one word had been added to the bit of parchment:

_Noted._

So this was it, thought Draco. This would be his perfect opportunity to seal the deal…complete the mission…grant the Dark Lord's wishes.

During the next Potions lesson, Potter let it slip to Granger and Weasley that he had plans to leave the castle with Dumbledore on the following night. Draco immediately decided that that would be the perfect time to execute the plan. He sent word for Greyback who answered shortly, stating that they would arrive at Hogwarts the following night. The plan was finally set in motion. This was it. The moment he'd been working towards all year.

The following night was probably the longest he'd ever experienced in his entire life. Draco lay awake in his bed, waiting. Just waiting. Time was ticking away but he could not move. He concentrated hard on breathing. In and out, in and out, in and out. It was time. He could not put it off any longer. It was time and he was ready. He rose from his bed, dressed quietly, and exited the dormitory once again. Soon, he was standing before the vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement, and watching its door slowly creep open. Black powder erupted from it, and suddenly a few figures appeared: Bellatrix, Greyback, and Mulciver.

He ran as fast as he could, dodging curses that were flying in all directions. He could still hear Bella's wicked laughs as he ran up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower. When he'd finally reached the top, he found that his target was standing there, alone and unprotected. He looked exhausted and sick. Scared, even. Draco tried to steady himself as he pointed his wand directly at the Headmaster.

"Good evening, Draco," He said casually. "What brings you here on this fine spring evening?"

"Who else is here?" Draco demanded. "I heard you talking."

"I often talk aloud to myself," Dumbledore replied. "I find it to be extraordinarily useful."

Draco stared at him. He was talking so casually, as if this were any ordinary conversation!

"Have you been whispering to yourself, Draco?" Dumbledore continued.

Draco didn't say anything. He kept his wand pointed directly at him, but could not find the strength to do it.

"Draco," Dumbledore lowered his voice. "You are no assassin."

"HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT I AM?" cried Draco. "I'VE DONE THINGS THAT WOULD SHOCK YOU!"

"Oh, like cursing Katie Bell in hopes that she would bare a cursed necklace to me? Like poisoning a mere bottle of liquid in hopes that it would be passed on to me?" Draco stared, unbelieving. "Forgive me, but these actions seem so desperate, that your heart can't have been in them."

"He…he trusts me," Draco muttered. And then, without another thought, he rolled up the sleeve on his left arm to reveal the dark mark. It was moving. He then noticed that someone had conjured it up in the sky, which was now immensely blackened. "I was chosen."

"Then I shall make it easy for you," Dumbledore said simply, and he raised his wand in mid-air. Draco acted quickly and disarmed him. The wand flew from the old man's hand and went through the floorboard below.

"Very good," Dumbledore smiled at him. Footsteps sounded from below. It was the others. They were on their way to help. He had to do it. It was time. It was either now or never.

"You are not alone," Dumbledore pointed out. "There are others? HOW?"

Draco paused, wondering if he should answer this.

"The vanishing cabinet in the Room of Requirement," he finally told Dumbledore. "I've been mending it."

"Let me guess, it has a sister…a twin?"

"At Borgin and Burke's. They form a secret passage."

"Ingenious!"

Draco stared at him. Did he really think that praising him now would make him spare his life? He was still going to do it. Any minute now, he would say the "Avada Kedavra" and throw Dumbledore off from the tower.

"Draco," Dumbledore said softly, taking a step towards him. "Years ago, I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices. Please let me help you."

"I don't want your _help_!" Draco exclaimed, desperately. "Don't you _understand_? I _have_ to do this! I _have_ to kill you! Or…or he's gonna kill me!"

Suddenly, the door to the Astronomy Tower flew open and Bellatrix stepped through, followed by Greyback, Mulciver, Yaxley, and a few others.

"Well, well, well," said Bella as she looked from Draco to Dumbledore. "Look what we have here." She crossed the tower to kiss Draco on the cheek. "Well done, Draco," she whispered softly into his ear.

A cold chill ran down his spine and he shivered slightly.

"Good evening, Bellatrix," Dumbledore said, politely. "I think introductions are in order, don't you?"

"Love to, Albus," she replied. "But I'm afraid we're on a bit of a tight schedule." Then, without warning, she turned to Draco. "DO IT!"

Draco stared at her and then glanced back at Dumbledore. This was the moment. He had to do it. He raised his wand again and pointed it directly at the old man's chest. His hand was shaking uncontrollably. He couldn't do it! He couldn't!

"He doesn't have the stomach," Greyback muttered in the back, "just like his father."

Draco glared at him. HOW DARE HE SAY THESE WORDS AGAINST HIS FATHER? WHO DID HE THINK HE WAS?!

"I'll finish him myself," Greyback said, taking a step towards the headmaster.

"NO!" cried Bellatrix. "The Dark Lord has ordered the boy to do this. Come on, Draco. Do it! GO ON DRACO, NOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

Draco's eyes locked with Dumbledore's sad, apparently silver ones. He had tears in his eyes and Draco's were watering as well. His hand was still shaking when the door bang open again and Snape walked through.

"No," he said coolly. Draco stood aside and Snape turned to face Dumbledore. Bellatrix was glaring at him.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, softly. Snape met his eyes. "Please."

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The flash of green light hit Dumbledore square in the chest and he was thrown off the Astronomy Tower and out of sight.

Draco's heart seemed to stop. He was frozen. He couldn't breathe again. The deed was done, and yet he felt worse now than he had previously. Before he knew what was going on, Snape grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him as the others led the way down from the tower.

They marched through the dark castle corridors together. Bellatrix was dancing and singing behind them, throwing jinxes here and there, causing chandeliers and windows to smash and explode.

It was done, the deed was done, Draco told himself repeatedly. Yet, he continued to see the old man's compassionate eyes looking at him. _Compassionate_! He was _compassionate!_ Draco was about to kill him and Dumbledore was _compassionate_! He could not believe it. It was courage beyond anything he'd ever known.

As they crossed the hill towards the Forbidden Forest, Bellatrix set fire to Hagrid's cabin which erupted in flames. Draco's heart was pounding hard again as he followed. He was scared. He was absolutely, completely, without a doubt, _terrified_! What.. _what had they done?!_ What crime had he been an accessory to?! How could he ever show his face at Hogwarts again?

"SNAPE!" a voice shouted in the distance. Draco spun round and saw Potter running after them. "HE TRUSTED YOU!"

Snape gave Draco a small shove.

"GO ON!" he called, and Draco obeyed without question. He followed the other Deatheaters into the woods and let Snape deal with Potter.

Soon, he was back in his home and his mother was showering him with kisses.

"It's all over!" she was saying. "You did it, sweetheart, you did it!"

His throat was too tight to speak so he simply nodded in response.

Bellatrix, who was still singing with delight, passed wine around the room and they all drunk to their victory.

Tomorrow would be the beginning of a new life. That was a mere prediction. But Draco was not looking forward to this life at all. That was a definite fact.


	8. The New Hogwarts

**CHAPTER 8: THE NEW HOGWARTS**

"Severus," said the high, cold voice. "I was beginning to worry that you had lost your way. Come, we've saved you a seat."

Snape turned his gaze away from the blood-covered woman that was floating in mid-air and took a seat at the long table, beside the Dark Lord. Snape met Draco's eye for a split-second and gave him a slight nod.

It was midnight and Malfoy Manor was hosting the most crucial of meetings. The Deatheaters all sat at the table, with the Dark Lord at the very end. He had called this most urgent meeting just an hour before, though had not told anyone what it was about. At the end of the room, hanging in mid-air, was someone that the Dark Lord had brought along with him—a treat, as he had called it.

Draco was sitting at the table in between his mother and father. On the other side of Narcissa sat Bellatrix. There were 18 others at the table, including Yaxley, Greyback, and Macnair. Somewhere in the distance, the Dark Lord's snake was slithering about. There was the undeniable presence of panic in the atmosphere, for most of which Draco felt he was solely responsible. Narcissa suddenly put her hand on his and squeezed it gently.

"You bring news, I trust?" Voldemort said to Snape who met his eyes.

"It will happen Saturday next at nightfall," Snape said coolly.

"I've heard differently, my lord," Yaxley spoke up. All of the Deatheaters turned to look at him. "Dawlish, the auror, has let it slip that the Potter boy will not be moved until the 30th of this month—the day before he turns seventeen."

"This is a false trail," snapped Snape. "The auror office no longer plays any part in the protection of Harry Potter." He turned back to Voldemort. "Those closest to him believe we have infiltrated the ministry."

"Well, they got that right, eh?" laughed Carrow and the others joined in.

"What say you, Pius?" said Voldemort, and everyone turned to look at the man sitting on the other end of the table. He seemed to struggle on the edge of speech for a moment, but then he finally spoke up.

"One hears many things, my lord. Whether the truth is among them is not clear."

At this, Voldemort laughed.

"Spoken like a true politician!" he cried. "You will, I think, prove to be most useful, Pius." He turned back to Snape. "Where will he be taken, the boy?"

"To a safe house," answered Snape, "Most likely the home of someone in the Order. I'm told it's been given every manner of protection possible. Once there, it will be impractical to attack him."

Suddenly, Bellatrix spoke up, in a soft whisper.

"My lord, I'd like to volunteer myself for this task. I want to kill the boy."

Draco could not believe she had dared to suggest such a thing. Everyone knew that Potter was most important to Voldemort and that he must be the one to kill him. To suggest such a thing was foolish, if not completely suicidal! Sure enough, Voldemort let out a most frightening yell which caused many of the Deatheaters to jump in their seats, though it wasn't for the reason that Draco had thought.

Wormtail entered the room at the sound of his name being called. It was then that the sound of a shrilling scream reached Draco's ears…though it could have occurred seconds before he'd actually heard it, and it was only reaching him now. He turned round in his seat to look at Madame Burbage, who was still hanging in mid-air, too petrified to speak.

"HAVE I NOT SPOKEN TO YOU ABOUT KEEPING OUR GUEST QUIET?!" Voldemort shrieked.

"Yes, my lord," whimpered Wormtail. "Right…right away, m..mmy lord."

Voldemort turned to Bellatrix, and when he spoke, it was in a calm voice once again.

"As inspiring as I find your bloodlust, Bellatrix, I must be the one to kill Harry Potter." Bellatrix sat back in her chair, looking smug and disappointed. Voldemort rose to his feet.

"However," he began, "I face an unfortunate complication…my wand and Potter's seem to be connected…they are, in some ways, twins. We can wound but not fatally harm one another."

Voldemort began to slowly circle around the room and Draco was careful not to meet his eyes. He kept them fixed on the table, and felt his mother's grip on his hand tighten slightly.

"If I am to kill him," Voldemort continued. "I must do it with another wand."

The silence in the room grew stiller. No one seemed to be breathing.

"Come now," said Voldemort, coolly. "Surely one of you would like the honour. What…what about you, _Lucius_?"

Draco's heart stopped. Voldemort was standing right behind him, glaring down at his father. Lucius slowly turned around to look at him.

"My…my lord?"

"MY LORD?" Voldemort mimicked.

Narcissa's grip was so hard that Draco's hand started to pain him. She seemed to have dug her nails into his very skin. He however, concentrated hard on breathing as quietly as possible, as though it would grant him invisibility.

"I require your wand," Voldemort declared. Lucius paused for a moment, then retrieved his wand and held his shaking hand out to the Dark Lord.

He examined the wand for a moment and questioned Lucius about its properties, while Draco focused hard on breathing. He found that closing his eyes helped make the process easier. At this point, he didn't care what the other Deatheaters thought.

Behind him, a loud snap sounded as Voldemort broke the core off of the tip of Lucius' wand. Draco's eyes flew open as his heart beat rapidly. He met Snape's eyes and frowned at them. They seemed to be trying to communicate something that, surprisingly, Draco understood.

_It'll all be okay_, they said.

_Does this look okay to you?!_ Draco's eyes responded.

_Trust me._

Draco looked away. Right, because that worked out so well for him the last time… as he recalled, Snape's act of killing Dumbledore only strengthened the Dark Lord's cruelty towards the Malfoys. Snape was only looking out for himself, as everyone else at the table were, Draco was sure.

"To those of you who do not know," Voldemort began, and with his wand he brought Madame Burbage closer to the center of the table. "We are joined tonight by Miss Charity Burbage, who until recently, taught at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Her speciality was Muggle Studies." The Deatheaters let out small chuckles, which Draco did not join in. His heart was pounding so hard he could barely hear anything anymore.

"It is Ms. Burbage's belief that muggles are not so different from us," continued Voldemort. "She would, given her way, have us…_mate_ with them."

The laughter grew louder. Bella contributed most of all to it. Even Narcissa and Lucius had smiles on their faces. Draco let go of his mother's hand and twisted his fingers in his lap instead.

"Sev…Severus," whispered Madame Burbage's hoarse voice. Draco closed his eyes again, not wanting to hear it. "Severus, please…. We're friends!"

Draco looked up at Snape who, to his surprise, was watching Madame Burbage intently. His eyes were full of sadness. Maybe he really did—

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Voldemort's curse hit Madame Burbage so hard that she toppled over and fell with a loud thump onto the table.

Unable to move, Draco stared.

It was the single, most frightening moment in his life…probably worse than Dumbledore's death had been. But what happened next was even more horrifying. Voldemort gently patted his vicious snake, with a wicked look in those terrible red eyes.

"Nagini…dinner."

Feeling sick to his stomach, Draco tried to look away, but Narcissa nudged him to sit properly in his seat. He looked at her and saw that she was frightened too, but did not want to attract any attention to them. So, very unwillingly, Draco turned to look at a distant wall, trying very hard not to hear the crunches and slithers as the snake attacked his dinner.

When it was over, Voldemort rose from his seat, motioned for everyone to do the same, and then they all began to file out of the room. Narcissa ran forwards to see them out of the house, and was joined quickly by Lucius, who had patted Draco on the back once before retreating.

Draco remained seated alone in the Dining room, staring at the carcass that was now Madame Burbage. He tried to look away but couldn't do it. He was frozen. This was far beyond gruesome. And watching how much pleasure it gave Voldemort, made Draco even sicker.

Suddenly, the door to the dining room opened again and Snape stood in the doorway, watching Draco. He met his gaze and they remained quiet for a long time. Then, almost instinctively, as Draco stood up on trembling feet, Snape crossed the room and embraced him. Tears began to trickle down Draco's cheeks and he did not even notice Snape slowly moving him out of the room. When he let go of him, he was startled to find that they had moved all the way upstairs, to his bedroom. He sank into an armchair and closed his eyes again, while Snape walked over to the window and stood there, with his back to him.

"I know that was terrible to watch," he said, quietly. "I didn't enjoy looking either."

"It made me sick," Draco whispered.

There was a pause, in which Draco imagined him being on the other end of Voldemort's threatening wand. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that Snape was now leaning down beside him.

"Listen," he whispered. "As you remember, I made the unbreakable vow and swore to your mother that I would protect you. I haven't forgotten that. I will continue to do everything in my power to protect you."

Draco turned to look at him, tears still in his eyes.

"He's too strong," he croaked, desperately. "Not even Dumbledore could finish him. What makes you think _you_ can?"

"I didn't say anything about finishing him," Snape interjected. "I only said that I would make sure you were safe. And I will, Draco. I promise."

He patted him on the back and then exited the room, leaving Draco alone to his fearsome thoughts.

The next couple of months were abysmal. Narcissa and Lucius had insisted that Draco return for his final year at Hogwarts, though he didn't really see the point in it now. Voldemort took over the Ministry of Magic, and so Deatheaters were now at large everywhere. Potter and his friends were on the run, and signs everywhere were offering reward money to anyone who could find them. The Slytherins were all boasting about what they would do with all those galleons if they found the trio, but Draco isolated himself from these discussions. It would not do him any good to be around those people at the moment.

Things became much worse when the Carrows were brought to teach what now came to be called Dark Arts, instead of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Their punishments were most severe. Every few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws who disobeyed them had some beating marks on their faces, but the Gryffindors were the worst. Nearly all of them had scars on their faces, as a result of objecting to practically everything that the Carrows taught.

Draco, on the other hand, was perfectly safe in their presence, what with his Deatheater status. Still, he despised them with a passion and stayed out of their way as much as possible.

When November arrived, the Carrows decided that it was time to teach the students of Hogwarts how to perform the Cruciatus curse… on first-year students. The thought of it sent a whole new wave of nerves at Draco. The day of the first lesson, he headed straight for the Headmaster's office, which was his newly-found place of refuge. Snape appeared to have been talking to Dumbledore's portrait when Draco entered. Immediately, Snape spun round and started at him.

"What happened?!" he demanded.

"Nothing.." said Draco, startled. "I just came up here to sit for a bit."

"Oh," said Snape, frowning. He glanced back at Dumbledore's portrait. "Uh, listen Draco, now is not a good time. Come back later, okay?"

"Please," croaked Draco. "Please, I don't want to go back."

"I uh…have to take care of…an issue."

Draco swallowed loudly and looked down at his feet.

"They're making us Crucio random first-years," he said quickly.

There was a very long pause—too long—as Snape took in these words. Finally, he said,

"Very well, Draco. Have a seat. I will go and talk to them."

And with that, he exited the room, leaving Draco alone with all the portraits. He looked around the room and then jumped slightly when he finally realized that Dumbledore was smiling at him from his portrait.

"What's so funny?" Draco demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh no, not funny," said Dumbledore, calmly. "It's just good to see you again, Draco."

Draco stared at him in shock. He was _dead_. DEAD! Because of _him_! And still, he managed to be _kind_? _WHY?!_

"I hope you know that I don't blame you, Draco," said Dumbledore, as though he had heard his thoughts.

Throat too tight to speak, Draco nodded and turned away, not bearing to look into those sympathetic eyes much longer.

The next couple of weeks passed on by in the same manner. Snape hadn't been able to talk the Carrows out of their plans, so instead he orchestrated excuses for Draco to miss these lessons, during which he spent his time in the Headmaster's office with Snape.

When the Christmas holidays arrived, Draco was more than thrilled to get away from the disaster that had become Hogwarts. However, when he arrived at his home, he found that it was the Dark Lord who greeted him first, as he was just leaving from another meeting.

"Oh, he just wanted to remind us to keep an eye out for Potter," Narcissa assured Draco afterwards. "It's nothing to worry about. Everything is going to be alright."

"You keep saying that," Draco said to her, "But you yourself are frightened to death. I can tell. I'm not an idiot, you know."

This silenced Narcissa, and she looked away to hide her tears from him.

A few days later, they sat together in the sitting room, eating dinner, when an unexpected couple of guests arrived...Snatchers. And they'd brought along even more guests with him… Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter. Though, for some reason, Potter's face was beaten and his scar was hidden beneath multiple layers of skin on his forehead.

"DRACO!" Bellatrix called to him. He was brought forth into the dining room, where Madame Burbage had previously been killed. The table was gone and there was a chair at the center, where Potter sat. Bellatrix was holding him by the hair and smiling at Draco. "Well?"

Narcissa nudged Draco forwards and he obeyed. In the corner, Greyback and one of the snatchers were pinning Granger and Weasley against the wall, and Greyback was watching Granger with a sort of horrifying hunger in his eyes.

"I...I can't be sure," Draco told Bella, looking away from the werewolf. Lucius put his hand on his shoulder.

"Look carefully, Draco," he whispered. "If...if we're the ones to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord...every...everything will be alright. All will be as it was, you see?"

"NOW, WE WON'T BE FORGETTING WHO ACTUALLY CAUGHT HIM, I HOPE, MR. MALFOY?!" said one of the Snatchers, stepping forwards.

"YOU DARE SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT IN MY OWN HOUSE?!" Lucius rounded on him, but Narcissa held him back.

"Come over, sweetie," Bellatrix smiled at Draco, "Don't be shy!"

On trembling feet, Draco slowly moved forwards and knelt down beside Potter.

"Now," Bellatrix told him, "If this isn't who we think it is, and we call him, he'll kill us all. We need to be absolutely sure."

Draco looked into Potter's good eye which was glaring at him in a most peculiar way. It was almost like he was daring Draco to tell them that it was actually him. From the corner of his eye, Draco caught Granger grabbing Weasley's arm and holding it tight. He looked back at Potter, unsure what to do.

"What...what's wrong with his face?" he asked, in an attempt to stall.

"Yes, what _is_ wrong with his face?" Bellatrix demanded of the Snatchers.

"He came to us like that," Draco heard someone reply. "Reckon it's something he caught in the forest."

Potter was still glaring at Draco daringly. Gulping nervously, Draco slowly rose to his feet and stepped away into a corner.

"Or ran into a stinging jinx," Bellatrix was saying, as she turned to look at Granger. "Was it you, deary? Give me her wand! We'll see what her last spell was!"

Draco looked away, fear rising in his chest again. He knew very well that it was them, all right. But he didn't want to tell anybody. He was afraid to find out what would happen next.

Suddenly, Aunt Bellatrix went ballistic and shot curses at the Snatchers. They all toppled over and she shrieked for them to get out. They left. But Bellatrix was nowhere near finished. She grabbed Potter and Weasley by the collars and thrust them at Narcissa who dragged them out of the room.

"PUT THE BOYS IN THE CELLAR!" Bellatrix shrieked. She then rounded on Granger. "I want to have a little conversation with this one, _girl to girl!_"

Draco acted fast, not wanting to stick around to watch Granger get the same as Madame Burbage. Years ago, he'd have been delighted to watch her die. But now, blood status didn't matter to him anymore. There were more important things than that. He retreated to his room and sat there, trying not to hear Granger's horrible screams as Bellatrix did whatever she was doing to her. It seemed to go on for hours. The whole house sounded with the screams and Draco was surprised that no one called someone over to the house to check who was being castrated.

Finally, the screams seemed to die down. There was a thump, a yell, and another thump. Then a loud bang! Draco ran down the stairs and to the dining room to check what was going on. Narcissa and Lucius were dueling Potter and Weasley, who seemed to have escaped from captivity in the dungeons.

"STOP!" Bellatrix called, and everybody froze. She was holding Granger upright, and holding a knife under her neck. "Drop your wands! I SAID DROP THEM!"

Potter and Weasley let their wands go and they cluttered to the floor.

"Pick them up, Draco, now!" Bellatrix demanded, and he did.

"Well, well, well," she laughed, moving forwards slowly with Granger. "Look who it is...It's Harry Potter! All bright and shiny and new again, just in time for the Dark Lord!"

Draco turned to look and, sure enough, Potter's face had gone back to normal and his scar had reappeared on his forehead.

"Call him!" Bellatrix said to Draco. He stared at her, unable to move. "CALL HIM!"

He wanted to say no. He wanted to say that he absolutely _refused_ to! But he couldn't. There was no way. So instead, he remained frozen, throat too tight to speak.

Lucius stepped forwards and rolled up his sleeve. At that moment, a loud bang sounded as the chandelier toppled down from the ceiling, and thousands of shards of glass exploded in all directions. Bellatrix yelled and let go of Granger who ran to Weasley. But Potter lunged himself at Draco and they struggled for a moment, as he tried to get the wands from his grip. Conflicted, Draco let him have them.

"STUPID ELF!" Bellatrix shrieked, and Draco spun round to see that _Dobby_ had appeared. He was standing on the other side of the room, with Potter and his friends. "YOU COULD HAVE KILLED ME!"

"Dobby never meant to kill," squeaked the elf. "Dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure."

Narcissa raised her wand but with a snap of the elf's fingers, it flew out of her grip and he caught it.

"HOW-HOW DAAAAAARE YOU TAKE A WITCH'S WAND?!" cried Bellatrix, furious. "HOW DARE YOU DEFY YOUR MASTERS?!"

The elf straightened up.

"Dobby has no master. Dobby is a free elf. And Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends."

And with that, he grabbed a hold of the three and began the disapparition. But Bellatrix acted fast, thrusting her knife at him. It disappeared along with them, leaving the Malfoys to take in what had just happened.

To Draco's surprise, it was Narcissa who rounded on him.

"Nice going," she told him, sarcastically. And without another word, she, Lucius, and Bellatrix left the room, leaving Draco to ponder over his apparent uselessness.


	9. Draco's Inner Battle

**CHAPTER 9: DRACO'S INNER BATTLE**

Draco had never dreamed that he would be relieved to be back at Hogwarts. But as it turned out, being at home was the last thing he wanted. Thankfully, no one at school had heard about what had happened over the Christmas Break, and that's exactly the way that Draco wanted it to be. Though, it was unfortunate that he didn't have his wand now. His mother had lent him hers but it just wasn't the same. He made a mental note that he would really give it to Potter, next time he saw him.

He continued to skip Dark Arts lessons whenever he could and mainly spent all his time in the Headmaster's office with Snape. They even ate there occasionally, not wanting to be in the Great Hall.

"Why are you talking to Dumbledore?" Draco finally asked him one night.

Snape lowered his fork and stared at Draco from across the table.

"What makes you think I'm—"

"I saw you once," he interrupted.

Snape watched Draco carefully, as though trying to decide if he was bluffing. Finally, he seemed to believe him because he lowered his voice significantly.

"I'd rather not tell you, Draco. It's not safe. The less you know the better."

"I'm not gonna tell anyone," Draco said, defensively.

"I'm not worried about that for even a second," Snape assured him. "But as you recall, you did not want to confide in me your plans last year. Do you remember?"

Draco glared at Snape who was glaring back at him.

"Fine," he muttered. "Don't tell me. I don't want to know, anyway."

"Sure you do," said Snape, now smiling. "Listen, it's time for you to go. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Bye," said Draco and he rose to his feet and carried his plate out of Snape's office.

He did not go back to the common room. Instead, he decided to pay Myrtle a visit. She was howling by the window, as always, but beamed at him once she'd noticed him.

"How have you been?" she cried.

"Alright," Draco shrugged, tossing his plate into the garbage. "I just fancied visiting you. There's not much to do here, you know. And I don't want to be alone tonight."

"I'm so glad you came!" she smiled and he sat next to her by the window and stared out.

"What was he like, back then?" Draco asked her. He did not need to clarify who he was talking about, for she understood immediately.

"He was the most handsome, charming boy in the whole school," she told him. "Every girl fancied him and every boy wanted to be him. But he did not boast or brag about it. He was a very quiet boy…mysterious, even. I suppose that's why all the girls took an interest in him."

"When did he change?"

"Oh, I don't know for sure, but I remember he came back after he'd left and asked Dumbledore for the Defense against the Dark Arts teaching post."

"Yeah, I know," Draco muttered.

"When he appeared then, he already looked fairly different…wasn't charming anymore, that's for sure. Oh but he did come in here before leaving. Well, he didn't visit _me_ per say, but he came to check something."

"The chamber," Draco nodded.

"Yes," said Myrtle.

"Myrtle," Draco suddenly looked at her. "Why didn't you ever tell anyone that he was the Heir of Slytherin?"

"Draco!" She gasped. "No one asked me! What was I supposed to do, just offer that information voluntarily?"

"Well, yeah!" he cried. "Why not? You could have saved the Weasley girl sooner."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," she laughed. "_You_ of all people wanted her dead! You wanted all of them dead!"

Draco turned scarlet.

"What can I say? I've come to learn that blood status actually _doesn't_ matter."

Myrtle beamed at him.

"I'm very proud that you have," she said. "You remind me so much of Sirius."

"Black?" Draco frowned. "Why?"

"He used to visit me too," she smiled. "For reasons not that different from yours."

"I don't understand," said Draco.

"Sirius too, grew up in a family of purebloods. And he hated the lot of them. That's what we talked about, you see. He was really shunned for his differences and I helped him understand that blood status does not defy the wizard."

"I...didn't...know," said Draco, slowly.

"You should ask your mother to tell you a little more about her cousin."

And with that, the ghost disappeared. Draco spent a few more minutes sitting there by himself, before he decided to go to bed.

The next day, he came to Snape's office in the early morning and told him he needed to talk to his mother. Snape permitted him to use the flu network and Draco travelled back to his house. Narcissa was in the Sitting Room with Bellatrix, and both of them jumped at the sight of Draco stepping out of the green flames.

"What are you doing here?" Narcissa gasped. "What happened? Is it Severus? Is he—"

"Everything is fine," he cried, a little annoyed. "I just wanted to talk to you...both of you."

"What about?" said Bellatrix without looking at him. She was twisting her wand around her fingers and sitting back in the armchair casually.

"About…about Sirius Black," said Draco.

Bellatrix sat up and glared at him, as did Narcissa.

"_Black_?" she repeated. "What about him?"

"I just wanted to know stuff about him…about who he was,"

"He was our cousin, you know that," said Naricssa, reasonably.

"More than that," said Draco, sitting down. "I want to know _who_ he was."

"He was a bloody traitor, that's who he was!" Bellatrix snapped. "And he got what was coming to him. He _shamed_ our family name."

"HOW?" Draco beckoned.

Narcissa sighed.

"Generations and generations of Blacks have been in Slytherin," she explained. "And he broke the tradition. He was put in Gryffindor."

"But that wasn't his fault, was it?"

"Yes, but even before he came to Hogwarts, he showed signs of…being different."

"How so?"

"He did not understand anything that we do!" Bellatrix cried. "He actually _pitied_ mudbloods! He hated when we used that word and he yelled at us all the time that we were being _prejudiced._"

"He was always different," Narcissa continued after Bella had calmed down. "And then he met Potter's kind and started to run around with them."

"Bloody traitor," Bella muttered.

"And then he ran away when he was 16…"

"HA!" laughed Bella. "I'll never forget little Sirius' face when I cursed him."

"You...cursed him?" Draco asked.

"Crucio, actually," Bella announced, proudly. Draco gulped loudly.

"What happened then?"

"He took his things and ran away," said Narcissa. "Aunt Black was never quite the same after that. . ."

"Where did he go?" Draco asked.

"Who _cares_?!" cried Bella, rounding on him. "I spent too much time in Azkaban with him."

Draco didn't say anything else after that. He didn't know how he felt about all this. Who would have thought that he would take after his Great Uncle, of _all_ people? If Bellatrix found this out, would she use the cruciatus curse on him as well? Would his mother and father kick him out too? And the Dark Lord. . . would he find this an amusing coincidence?

"You'd better get back," Narcissa told him, coldly. He nodded, rose to his feet, and stepped back into the flames without another word to the pair of them.

The next couple of weeks were also uneventful. The days passed on by in the same dull manner. Draco skipped all of his Dark Arts lessons, spent more time in Snape's office than in his own dormitory, and occasionally visited Moaning Myrtle. He never went to the Room of Requirement however, for he didn't want to be in the presence of the memories that it revived.

Finally, June arrived, and Draco was wandering around Hogsmeade one night when he'd heard the alarms go off. It meant that there was an imposter lurking about. Suddenly, Voldemort's high voice sounded in his ears. It seemed to be speaking to everyone as it demanded that they hand Potter over or there will be a fight. Not long after that, there were sounds of shouts coming from the castle. Draco looked round and saw that the Quidditch Pitch had been set on fire. There were curses flying everywhere. Alarmed, Draco disapparated and appeared in the middle of the Great Hall. Everyone was running in a panic, shooting curses here and there. This was it, then. This was the final battle. And that meant that Potter and his lot were somewhere in the castle. Draco disapparated and landed on top of the Astronomy Tower. He looked out and saw Voldemort and everyone else were waiting in the distance. Sure, many of the Deatheaters had come to the castle and were already fighting, but there were more waiting. Draco acted instinctively and disapparated, landing in the Dungeons. There, all the Slytherins were running in a panic. He grabbed Blaise and Goyle's collars and dragged them off.

They ran after him, panicked. He spotted Potter quickly and ran after him. They followed him all the way up to the fifth floor, where Draco was surprised to see him moving into the Room of Requirement. Angry, he ran after him and wished for the room where everything was hidden to appear. Inside, Draco spotted Potter immediately. He was looking down at an old jewelry box, with an expression of great perplexing. Determined, Draco raised his wand, as did Blaise and Goyle on either side of him, and pointed it directly at Potter.

"Well, well, well," he said, and Potter immediately dropped whatever it was he was holding and turned to look at him. "What brings you here, Potter?"

"I could ask you the same," he answered.

"You have something of mine," said Draco. "_I'd like it back._"

"Well, what's wrong with the one you have?" said Potter, casually, moving in front of the box he had been examining seconds before.

"It's my mother's," Draco told him, grimly. "It's powerful but. . . it's not the same. It doesn't quite. . . _understand_ me, know what I mean?"

Potter simply stared at him, not moving or making any attempt to hand back Draco's wand.

"Why didn't you tell her?" he finally said, surprising Draco. "Bellatrix. . . you. . . you _knew_ it was me. You didn't say anything."

Draco glared at him, unable to move. It was an interesting question. Why hadn't he said anything? He still didn't know, to this day. He was still trying to figure out how it could be that he took after Sirius Black, of all the relatives that he had.

"Go on, Draco," Goyle suddenly whispered in his ear, making him jump slightly. "Don't be a prat. Do him!"

Suddenly, Potter reached for his wand, but before he or Draco could act, Granger came out of nowhere and shot a curse at Draco, causing his wand to fly 50 feet away from him.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Goyle shot at her, but she acted fast and dodged the curse before it could hit her. Draco took this as a sign to mean that he ought to run, and he did...followed by Blaise and Goyle, of course. He ran towards the exit to the Room of Requirement. Weasley, however, was running after them and Goyle decided to turn around and face him. He did a sort of odd wand movement and ended up setting the entire bloody place on fire.

Panicked, Draco ran but everywhere he turned, fire was shooting at him...fiery snakes roaring and slithering about from all directions. They were completely surrounded, with nowhere left to go. Potter and his friends had found a couple of brooms and were flying through the flames, but Draco couldn't find any more brooms, so he decided to do the only thing he could at this point. He grabbed a hold of a couple of objects that were piled on top of each other, and began to climb them. Blaise and Goyle followed, though Goyle lost his balance at one point and toppled over, falling straight into the flames. Draco stared down at where Goyle had fallen, feeling perplexed. But there was no time to grieve. The flames were everywhere and it was getting hotter by the minute. Suddenly, Potter came round and grabbed Draco, thrusting him onto the broom. Weasley did the same with Goyle. Together, they flew through the flames, following Granger who was leading the way on her own broomstick.

They reached the exit before the fire could consume them, toppling over into the dust. Potter tripped Draco and he fell flat on his face. He stumbled up to his feet and, without waiting for Blaise, ran off. No wand in the world was worth this. He would just have to get another one, when all this was over. But now was the time to fight.

Draco ran to the Great Hall and stood there, where the Staff Table usually was, watching the scene. Curses were flying everywhere and there were many bodies laying still on the ground. Draco looked around, pointing a wand that he'd picked up off the floor. He was ready to fight, all right. . . but who was he fighting? That was the real question. He had no idea whose side he was on anymore.

"DRACO!" his father grabbed his shoulder and made him jump back in alarm. "Where's Severus? Where is he?!"

"I... I dunno, dad," stammered Draco. "What's going on?"

"He wishes to speak to him," breathed Lucius, who was apparently out of breath. "Please... he told me to find him. Where... SEVERUS!"

Draco spun round as Lucius ran to Snape and told him exactly what he'd just told Draco. Without another word, Snape turned around and disapparated.

Draco rushed to Lucius's side.

"Father, where has he gone?"

"To the Shrieking Shack," said Lucius, looking around. "Where is your mother?"

"I dunno," said Draco, also looking around. Lucius ducked just as a curse nearly hit him, and then motioned for Draco to clear out of there.

"I'm going to go and find her and we're going to get away from here now!" Lucius cried and he was off.

Draco however, had other plans. He quickly disapparated and landed in the Shrieking Shack as well. Though, he was surprised to see that Potter and his friends had beat him there. They were bent low behind the wall, also listening in on Snape's conversation with Voldemort. Draco slowly climbed up the few steps to the other side, and ducked down as well to listen.

"The elder wand cannot serve me properly because...I am not its true master," Voldemort's high voice was saying.

Snape didn't say anything, but Draco could see through the window glass that his fingers were twisting behind his back.

"...you have been a good and faithful servant, Severus," Voldemort's high voice was saying. "But only I can live forever."

"My lord?" Draco heard Snape say.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang and before Draco knew it, Snape was being attacked by that vicious snake. It was worse than Madame Burbage. Draco's eyes filled with tears as he listened with horror. It was awful. He had never expected this. He'd always pictured the Dark Lord doing this to him, but never to _Snape_.

When he disapparated, Draco meant to go out and comfort Snape, who was just barely alive, but Potter got there first. He knelt down beside him and had a sort of whispered conversation with him, which Draco could not hear...not that it mattered much now...Snape was dead, or at least dying. This was probably the worst thing that could happen, next to Draco's mother and father dying. At this point, he didn't really seem to care much if Bellatrix died. And he definitely did not worry about Greyback dying.

Voldemort gave another message, which was now ringing inside everybody's ears. He declared that his troops retreat and that Potter go and meet him in the Forbidden Forest. When he was done, Potter and his friends left the Shrieking Shack, undoubtedly to go up to the castle.

Draco remained kneeled down behind the wall for a few seconds, taking it all in. Then, on shaking feet, he moved forwards and sat next to Snape, who was already dead by now. Tearfully, Draco conjured up a wet cloth with his wand and put it to Snape's cut throat. He cleaned up the blood a bit and positioned Snape on the floor comfortably. Then, he conjured up a few flowers and lay them beside the body. He sat up against the wall, and cried, never looking away from Snape.

He seemed to sit there for hours before he realized that it was time to go back and see what had become of the castle. He rose to his feet and, with one last look at Snape, he walked away.

Up at the castle, everyone were gathering in the courtyard and Hagrid seemed to be holding the lifeless body of Potter. Draco joined the side with all the staff and students and Order members, and watched the procession of Deatheaters following Voldemort.

"HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!" Voldemort was shouting with such excitement that Draco had never heard. The Deatheaters were laughing. They were _amused_! Draco looked over at Potter. He really was dead. It really was over. The Dark Lord really had won. So many lives were lost and everything was different. He alone, was different.

"Draco!" Lucius called to him from across the courtyard. Draco felt eyes everywhere turning to him. He could not move.

"Draco," said Narcissa, softly. "Come."

Hands slightly shaking, heart beating rapidly, Draco walked. Voldemort greeted him halfway and for the first time ever, embraced him in a hug.

"Well done, Draco!" He said, joyfully.

Draco stood there awkwardly and waited for it to be over. When the Dark Lord released him, he walked over to his mother who led him away to the very back of the crowd of Deatheaters. Once they finally reached the back, however, there was an uproar from the front and everyone started to yell and run back into the castle. Draco turned around to look.

"What—"

"He's alive," Narcissa told him, simply.

"Who?" Draco cried as Lucius joined them, panicked.

"Potter," Narcissa answered.

"LET'S GO!" Lucius cried, rushing them away.

The three walked, never looking back at the castle that was now in ruins.

Later that day, they found out that the Dark Lord was gone, once and for all. Bellatrix had also been killed, as was Greyback. Narcissa cried when she heard these news, but Lucius merely took them in as facts and Draco was in shock.

They had actually defeated the Dark Lord. And he, Draco, could not be more thrilled. It was over. It was all finally over. He turned to look at his heartbroken parents.

"I'm leaving," he told them, simply.

"What?" gasped Narcissa. "What are you talking about?!"

"I'm done," said Draco, simply. "I don't want to live here anymore."

"You're mad," said Lucius, staring at him with disbelief.

"No," Draco told his father. "Just seeing things clearly for the first time. That's all."

And with that, he disapparated, leaving the two parents bewildered.

Later that year, Draco bought himself a place down at Hogsmeade and spent his days working at the Three Broomsticks or helping repair the castle damage. One day, he decided that there was something important he had to do. He journeyed over to London, to where he knew Sirius used to live. He let himself in, as he'd overheard Snape once explaining how to do it. He climbed up the creaky stairs and looked around until he found the room his mother had once described to him. . . the Black Family Tree. He found the name quickly, and stared at it.

"Sirius," he said to it. "I know. I understand it all now. And I'm sorry. I came here to tell you that I'm sorry that you died and that I never knew you. But as you can probably tell, from wherever you are now, I have chosen a different way...as I understand it, _your_ way."

The dot with Sirius's name stared back at him.

"Just thought I'd let you know," muttered Draco, smiling to himself. "Funny how that turned out, isn't it? Well, I'll be off now."

He turned to walk away, but stopped mid-way and looked back at the dot.

"Just so you know," he added, "I'll look after the Black Family name for you. . . the _true_ one that you created."

Years later, Draco met Astoria Greengrass whom he fell in love with instantly and decided to marry. Together, they had Scorpius Hyperion and Severus Sirius. And Draco, having learned a lot from living with the Malfoys, never taught his children the word 'mudblood'... or 'pureblood', for that matter.

All was well.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I'd like to thank everyone for their support and I hope you all enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. <strong>

**If any of you are interested in more deatheater stories, I am currently working on a big one called "The Dark Lord Exposed" and it is a detailed account of Tom Marvolo Riddle's life from the orphanage, to all those years at Hogwarts (the slug club, the horcruxes, the chamber of secrets, tracking down his family, framing hagrid, all of it) to his rise to power to his exile and his resurrection. The story will end at Voldemort's death in the Battle of Hogwarts, and so it will be 50 chapters long, 3 of which are already published. I will stay true to main plot points about Voldemort and simply fill in the gaps with my own imagination, but don't expect any supernatural things or alternate endings. Although, I might work in a Voldemort/Bellatrix relationship, but if I do, it will not be emotional on his end, though on hers it probably will. **

**Expect weekly updates. Thanks!**


	10. AUTHOR'S MESSAGE

**Hey readers! **

**I just wanted to let you know that I am going to be starting a new story soon.. I haven't worked out the title for it yet but it will be an alternate universe in which Harry's parents had defeated the dark lord and Harry therefore grew up with them and was very famous. He is an arrogant, rich boy, much like James was as a child. And in this story, Draco Malfoy grew up in a terrible home and is therefore shunned and made fun of a lot, by Harry Potter and Ron Weasley mostly. Malfoy's childhood mirrors that of Severus Snape's and Hermione Granger plays the role of Lily Evans by befriending Malfoy even though he is in Slytherin and she is in Gryffindor.**

**I just thought I'd let you know that I will be writing this story and there will be LOTS of moments with Draco. **

**Thanks and happy reading! **

**PS. I do not own Harry Potter. All rights to J.K Rowling. Thanks**


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